


Tag, Your It

by JahStorybook



Series: Point Man's Name [3]
Category: F.E.A.R. (Video Games)
Genre: Bonus Chapter, Hurt/Comfort, I Looked At Point And Said "Here Have A Lil PTSD", Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Incest, Light Angst, Light Smut, M/M, Point Man's Past, short sex scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:48:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26574763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JahStorybook/pseuds/JahStorybook
Summary: A continuation after last part with maybe a little... angst?Featuring a Bonus Chapter taking place before all Parts of this story.
Relationships: Paxton Fettel/Point Man (F.E.A.R.)
Series: Point Man's Name [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1815439
Comments: 7
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

Things couldn’t be going better, people dropping like flies around them. Some Fettle swore could even see him, just seconds before he took over their bodies, laughing maniacally. The way they were picking off Armachan Fettel suspected they’d have to find a new group of people to murder soon.

Everything was perfect. Until his brother collapsed against the wall, gun clattering to the floor. Fettel felt the link between them weaken, felt fear like no other shooting through him. Instantly he searched the hall for him, bracing himself for the worst. When he found Point still standing, he dropped the meatbag he was prepared to possess, flinging him well across the corridor. 

His brother certainly didn’t like things easy, it seemed. 

“What are you doing? Keep moving, you fool!” He got no answer, verbal or otherwise. Risking it, he lowered a hand to the shivering back facing him. Other than a flinch, he didn’t respond.

A bullet hit the wall next to his head, reminding him that they were very much not in a place where he could take a nap. 

“You need to move.” Not even a glance.

“Stand up. Run.” He looked up, seeing the guns coming their way, the black vests and masks concealing their enemies faces.

“They aren’t just going to throw you in a cell this time!” He wasn’t going to make it. Glancing between the guns and his brother, Fettel grew desperate. 

Without thought, without even a moment of consideration for the consequences, he stepped into his brother’s body. He didn’t fight it, just let Fettel take control and take down the advancing men. As soon as they were dead he turned and booked it, feeling his hands go numb as he started tugging at the uncomfortable gloves around them. 

He made it to safety, crawling through the sewers to put some distance between them and everyone else. When he came up, collapsing on the ground deep in the city, he felt his own thoughts right alongside Point’s. He was scared. They were both scared.

He tried to speak, opened his mouth to say something, anything, but a sharp pain in his throat stopped him. Point  _ couldn’t _ talk, anymore.

They didn’t have long, didn’t have time for him to process this new information. Fettel was stronger, yes, but even he couldn’t stay indefinitely in anyone’s body. No one ever survived the possession either. His only choice was to risk it, risk releasing him. He tried not to picture his brother exploding into tiny chunks.

He felt tired as his brother's body began to fight him off and chose to simply let go, wishing he could shut his eyes to it. 

* * *

Nothing happened. He looked down, finding his hands as they should be. A warm touch appeared over his and he almost jumped. His brother, looking just as relieved as him, was alive and separate from him. 

“What happened to you? Did you get hit?” There was no blood on him, not his own anyway. Fettel could feel his mind reaching out, slowly strengthening but still not quite what it should be. He could try to initiate the link, but not without… 

He’d always done so by devouring those who he desired the thoughts of. That was kind of off the table.

But he knew blood wasn’t the only option now. He hauled Point up, not even bothering to look around and find his bearings before he was dragging him away.

They ended up in the same hotel they’d weathered in before, but a different room this time. Fettel tossed his wobbly brother on the bed, unzipping his collar. Point Man looked up at him, eyes squinting into a suspicious glare.

“You need power. Right now your mind is quiet, though it’s hardly ever loud.” He knew he didn’t sound scared or desperate, but he felt it. Nothing had ever drained psychic power before. Even his mother could only absorb it by absorbing the one attached to it.

Except that baby, he thought suddenly. Alma had been weakened, distracted, while pregnant. Maybe because of the child’s strength, or because of the strain on her body, he wasn’t sure. Whatever the case, he didn’t know what else was capable of sucking up energy.

“You’ll just have to borrow for now,” he said, not expecting the confusion in the Point Man’s eyes. “Mine. Borrow mine. I’ll give you some.”

His meaning became slightly more obvious when he grabbed Point’s legs and straightened them out, tugging at his secure belt. Images of the last time, of Fettel above him and burning, not listening or relenting, filled his head. They’d come from his brother’s mind, not his.

“No, that won’t happen again,” he assured. Their connection was always strongest after some part of him was left behind in his brother. They didn’t have to go as far, just far enough that he could hear Point’s every thought again. 

He was maybe a little rough, in his rushed state. Fingers curling inside of him and thrusting just enough times to work him open, but he was careful. Even terrified and desperate to hear his brother again, he didn’t want to hurt him. 

Point jerked back, eyes shut tight, and Fettel wasted not even a second letting go. He could hear him, again. His brother was screaming somewhere deep in his mind, his skin on fire and his bones breaking. 

Fettel held him down when he tried to lunge off the bed, pinning him.

_ They’re going to kill me. They’re going to kill me. They’re going to kill me. _

Harlan’s experiments. Something had made his brother curl so far into himself he was remembering life before his memories were wiped. Life when they were poked and stabbed, shot up with every drug known to man. Life when his brother was tortured after not exhibiting the same psychic skill as  _ him _ . 

“They’re all dead, Brother,” he assured him, hands sliding up to elbows so he could lean closer. “Look around. Remember where you are.”

Point tried to look, tried to make sense of their surroundings, but he was in full blown survival mode, and whatever he was seeing wasn’t what was really here. The hallucinations were there even as children, but from what Fettel gathered grew worse in times of fear and distress. Much like their mother.

“Brother, do you remember playing tag?” If he didn’t recognize Fettel as he was now, maybe he was remembering Fettel as a child. 

Tag. A happy place, a safe place. His brother relaxed, blinking up at him in shock. Fettel knew, then. He knew that those memories weren’t gone. However repressed, however painful Harlan had made them, they still existed in there somewhere.

_ You always cheat at tag. _

He almost choked, hands tightening around Point’s arms and his nails digging in. His brother’s thoughts were rushing back, a warm and sound comfort, the only warmth Fettel had access to after his death.

“Welcome back.”


	2. Chase Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place sometime after the start of F.E.A.R 3, but before any of the previous stories in this series. It's really just a blurb and some character building.

Fettel worked his way through every room, dripping blood and smiling like a psychopath. It wasn’t a big smile, he wasn’t thrilled, just slightly amused at the turn of events. 

He was rescuing his brother again, and he was killing people left and right in the process. Who would have predicted that? 

Apparently, not Armachan, even though the last time they pulled this, not only did he and Point raze the whole building to the ground, they also tore the streets of Brazil apart afterwards. They weren’t the sort of men who took abduction and torture lightly. Not when it was them being tortured, at least.

Despite knowing his brother would be safe, he was in a bit of a hurry to find him this time. Their link had been steadily stretching thinner, bond weakening as Point was no doubt beaten into a weakened state.

His powers didn’t rely on his brother’s mental and physical stability, luckily. His sanity did, however, and he was becoming more and more deranged the weaker his brother got. How could he not hear him? How could he feel so isolated

When he finally found him, he realized how. 

Point Man was on his side, arms bound behind him and face lying in a pool of blood. There was a man standing over him, foot resting on his leg as he spat excuse after excuse at him for his continued suffering. His brother didn’t even flinch as he was kicked in the back, blood smearing his face as he slid through it.

Paxton Fettel, in all his life, had never felt such a need for bloodshed. Point was still, too still, on the ground, nose bloodied and eyes boring into the wall, but he would deal with that after. After he satisfied the deep growing hatred and fury.

For now, he rested his hand on the unsuspecting shoulder of the Armachan employed mercenary, taking over his very soul. He was fueled by anger, and concern as his brother didn’t even react to the possession taking place before him. Fettel relished the feeling of ripping the soldier apart from the inside out, turning on the other one who’d been leaning on the wall.

* * *

By the time he was finished the room was coated so thickly in red Fettel worried they’d have a hard time finding the door. He tore his attention away from the blood and flesh, though, to look down at Point Man.

Point hadn’t looked up, hadn’t so much as glanced Fettel’s way while he decimated the second soldier. 

Even now, he was just lying there, looking at the wall.

“They’re dead,” he said, his voice resonating around the room in the same unearthly way it always did. His words, however, had no effect on his brother. So he settled for actions. 

He kneeled down, turning Point’s face with his thumb and index, just to be sure he wasn’t unconscious. He stared at Fettel, eyes barely open.

“You need to get up now.” The only answer was vague resistance, but he appeared too tired for even that, and just opted for shutting his eyes.

Fettel tried not to be too shocked. 

“If you don’t get up now, more are going to show up, and they’ll do worse things to you than beat you half to death.” Never. They’d never make it past Fettel. But just because he  _ could  _ protect his brother didn’t mean it’d be easy. 

“You still have a world to save,” he whispered, hating himself for it. He didn’t care about the world. He cared about his family. And the majority of his family was in this room, giving up. Between pretending to give a damn about everyone else, and letting Point carry on pathetically, he had but one choice. “You have to help her.”

For  _ her,  _ he flinched. For  _ Jin _ . Fettel didn’t care for  _ her _ , either. Her goal was entirely to put down their mother, and yet she’d manipulated Point along the way into thinking they’d have some happy ending afterwards. Lies.She and the rest of the world were not his concern at the moment.

“Get up,” he repeated. This time, Point acted. It took him longer than it should to break the ties around his wrists, most likely due to the obviously broken arm Fettel hadn’t noticed. It’d heal quickly, they always do. 

“She’s waiting,” he whispered when they finally made eye contact. “After you, Brother.”

No one was ever going to hurt him again, Fettel thought to himself. It was a vow he would not take lightly.


End file.
